


please know me

by Michaelangelo



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: "Tell me Will" ass hannibal dialouge, Cannibalism, Self-Harm, and didnt want to touch my keyboard, and get it greasy, hannibals terrible therapy, i didnt proof read this v well, i was eating popcorn, so i let some stuff slide sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelangelo/pseuds/Michaelangelo
Summary: a lot of waxing bullshit dialouge between the idiots, talking about sharks and being eaten and all that jazz and then Will feeds hannibal a peice of himself sorry thats sorta a spoiler but also like,, thats the whole plot,,,
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	please know me

Hannibal sat in his chair, as Will wandered around the office, gently touching the hard wooden surfaces in a habit that the therapist had understood to be grounding. His hands ran over the spines of the library, across the front edge of his desk, down the length of the curtains. He wondered if Will even knew he was doing it as he circled closer to the other man, moving around him, jumping from texture to texture until he found his way to his own seat, touching it but not taking it.

“We as a species can not understand things, until we have taken the time to dissect them, consume them, and categorize them. We must know what it is, and what makes it function, just as much as we must know its relationship to us. Will it kill us if we taste it, or will it be a rare treat. Babies put things in their mouth to understand them, much the same as a shark biting a diver, tell me Will, which are you?”

“Right now, I think I am the diver,” He replied, still moving closer, passing around behind Hannibal, “Being bitten to be understood. I feel like Jack has his teeth in me, and keeps sinking them deeper trying to figure out what I am.”

“Would you have preferred dissection?”

“Isn’t that what you're for?” He continued slowly, walking over to the desk and picking up one of the scalpels, lifting it delicately from the row of pencils it sat parallel too. “To cut me open, and look inside?”

“Is that what this feels like to you?”

“Sometimes. Is that what it feels like for you?” Will asked, bringing the blade with him as he finally settled into his chair, sitting forward in it and prompting Hannibal to shift forward as well, resting comfortably on his forearms.

“This feels less like dissection, and more like an autopsy for someone who refuses to lay still. By all accounts, the damage of Jack's teeth should have been fatal, and you have been sent here for me to find the cause of death, as if we can't all see the bite. And yet then you get up, and go back into the water, and the cycle continues.”

“Do you think I should stop going in the water?”

“I think you are lucky to have found such a gentle shark.”

“But not a very clever one.”

“You are hard to know Will, it is not the fault of the shark that he cannot understand.”

“But Jack is no shark.”

“Nor am I dissecting you.”

“Maybe you should,” Will said, offering the blade to Hannibal, and watching him take it into his steady hands, “And then you can finally explain to Jack what’s wrong with me.”

Hannibal looked over the tool in his hand, the familiar weight and feel of it, the blade barely dulled by his wooden pencils. Will had just handed it to him, so freely asking to be understood, wanting to be known.

“Do you think Jack would listen? Alana warned him against bringing you into the field,” He said, as he handed the blade back, carefully denying Will the soft brush of skin, “And yet here you are.”

“Here I am.” He replied quietly, mostly to himself as it settled on him. Jack didn’t care for him, he was just going to keep biting him again and again until one day he wouldn’t be able to swim back to safety, and he would finally be dragged, wet and naked to Hannibal's table. The swift blade would finally see him, lay him flayed and bared and understood, but it would be too late. 

His body would be bloated and heavy with water, his skin would be blistered and slipping away, and what could be understood would be theoretical and pointless, his want to be known amounting in nothing but his own demise.

“Maybe I just want to be bitten.” He said when he finally spoke again, realising that the silence had grown long, and the room slowly darker. “The waters of my mind are murky, and the only thing that can find me there is a predator. You keep getting delivered my dead body, because you haven't waded into the stream with me, but Jack seems to hunt for me. Nomatter what I do, he finds me.”

“Is there much danger in your stream?”

“It’s growing. The water grows less clear with every day, and I feel like something is moving just under the surface. One day soon, I’ll hear the softest crack of a branch on the sidelines, a dear startling itself before it runs off, and while I’m distracted a hand will find my ankle and pull me under. Something else is coming.” He said as he toyed with the scalpel.

“Why don’t you step onto the shore?”

“Why would I go back into the water?”

“To be known. Do you seek to be known, Will?”

“Don’t we all?”

“We don't all wait for something lurking under the water. We don’t all invite sharks to our dinner table.”

“You do. Are you waiting for Jack to bite you as well?”

“I am waiting, but not for that. I am keen to see how this chum in the water will affect the fisherman, and the shark's relationship. He has bitten a lot off, other sharks will come soon, drawn in by the smell of blood.”

“Will you be one of them?” Will asked calmly, “Will my blood lure you in for a bite?”

“If you stop coming in for autopsies, then it may have to.” He replied, a friendly smile spreading across his face.

“Then maybe I should get used to feeding you too.” Will answered, taking the scalpel and holding it against the side of his hand, pressing down enough to mark the skin, but not cut it.

“What are you suggesting Will?” Hannibal asked, eyebrows raised slightly.

“I want you to know me, know the living flesh of me.” He said, as the blade dug further into the side of his hand, blood beginning to spill from the cut, “I’m suggesting you do exactly that.”

“I should tell you to stop.” Hannibal replied calmly, but Will saw the way his interest grew, feeling it as if it was his own.

“Would you?” He asked, his breathing hitching slightly as he turned the blade, slowly cutting up the side of his hand, the blade painlessly sharp.

He hoped Hannibal wouldn’t. He wanted the other man to taste him, to understand him, to hold him inside his own body. He could be safe there, at least a part of him, if only the other man would accept.

“Never. I will take whatever you offer me.” He said, breathing deeply, tasting the warm metallic blood in the air and watching as it ran in long rivers down Will’s arm, soaking into his shirt. Soon it would drip through, and begin to land on the hard floor beneath them, where he would let it sit for as long as it could. That trace of Will, that he would sketch and lovingly put to paper before it was lost.

He watched as the blade finally came away, the piece of flesh caught between Will’s thumb and the scalpel, somewhere between his and Hannibals. His hand bled quickly then, the blood racing down, a pool of it gathering on the floor, and Hannibal reached for it, pulling the kerchief from his pocket and pressing firmly to the wound. He held it with two hands, and little concern as his eyes drifted from it and back up to Will’s face, even as the cloth soaked through and began to bloody his hands as well.

With only one free hand between them, Will reached forward, the meat still held against the blade as he offered it to Hannibal. Will tried his best to hold eye contact with the other man, but was quickly overwhelmed by the intensity, and glanced down, watching instead the way Hannibal’s lips parted for him.

His eyes stayed fixed as Hannibal chewed and swallowed him, tilting his head up slightly without Will noticing, to let him watch more fully. Will was as much a voyer as he was an active participant of his own consumption, with his ability to see something from eyes outside of his own, and Hannibal wanted to give him that. He licked his lips, his tongue stained with blood, before finding Will’s eyes again.

“Do you know me now?” He asked softly, a thick quiet having wrapped around them.

“Better than I did before.” He replied, voice low as not to break the calm.

“Would you like another bite?” Will asked.

“How much can you bear to give?”

“When you finally drag me under the murky stream, I won’t mind.” Will said, knowing through the act of being known, and finally putting a face to his hunter.

“Then let me not destroy you, till then.” Hannibal replied, a knowing smirk passing his lips. 


End file.
